24. Surprise
24
Surprise
I’d never been particularly interested in dicks, but Sal’s was warm, firm velvet, a fleshy joystick that made his eyes roll back in his head when I twisted my fingers around the tip.
It was almost like a game: find the perfect combination to make him come.
I smiled at the wrinkle between his brow as I worked his cock. It was like even his forehead had dimples. He was such a beautiful, happy person. Tonight, I shared in his pleasure.
He laid on his back and clasped my hand, aiming his dick over his stomach. He tensed and thrust. “Fuck.” His hot seed barely spilled over my fingertips before he gathered it onto himself and collapsed onto the pillow.
I lifted the covers with my elbow so nothing would stick or stain. “Do you want to clean up?” I asked.
“Give me a minute.” He sighed wistfully.
Right. He should relax after such a big high. I shifted to use my knee as an additional support pole for the sheets.
“What are you doing?” He chuckled.
“Tenting the covers. I don’t want to make a mess. ”
His mouth ticked up in an incredulous grin. “Are you going to stay that way until I get up?”
“I think so, as long as my muscles don’t give out.” I flexed my arm.
He used his toes to drag the sheet down an inch. “We could just push the sheets to the foot of the bed.”
“But then we’d be cold.” I gulped, my thigh trembling as I scooted lower. He didn’t need to see all of me, all flushed and sweaty in soaked, beige undergarments.
“You’re right. Let’s do this instead.” He lifted his knees up like he was set to launch in an invisible spaceship, or maybe fart in a blanket fort. “I think this is much more relaxing,” he joked.
Laughing, I yanked the covers off him and ignored the milky gel pooled on his abs. “Fine, lay down as long as you like. I’ll wash up.”
“Aw, don’t leave. Who will explain the plot of this movie to me?” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and snatched a throw blanket, hugging it to my body as I hurried to the bathroom. Thankfully, my pajamas from the night before were still in there. But no spare underwear. I supposed it was fine to go commando if I was covered elsewhere.
My bare sex squelched as I returned to sit next to him. Why was I still so wet, even after cleaning up? I hugged my knees and tried to do some kegel exercises to lock all this excess lube in.
Sal washed up, then stood by the bed. “Do you still want me to stay over, or should I make myself scarce?”
“You can stay and chat. At least until the credits.” I gestured to the TV.
“Sounds good.” He flopped onto the bed and crossed his hands behind his head.
My stomach tangled as I tried not to look at his outstretched body. Was I supposed to cuddle him? Should I make a snack? Or was that too close to relationship-stuff ?
“You don’t have any stuffed animals in here,” he noted.
“No," I said.
“Are you allergic to dust?”
I looked down. “My parents discouraged us from forming unhealthy attachments.” Even to them.
He propped himself up, his eyes wide. “Are you saying they never let you have plushies?”
I shrugged, my insides knotted. “My brother got me one. Kind of.”
“Where is it?”
“He gave it to his girlfriend.” Technically, he brought it to work, then gave it to her, and I was only supposed to use it as a reference to make the spider mech. Still, saying it aloud closed an invisible claw around my throat. “Not that I wanted it,” I hurried to say and fussed with my hair. “I may have told him it was useless, and I’m sure she appreciates it more than I did.”
“But still, he didn’t ask?” Sal frowned.
“I don’t miss it,” I said. I missed him. But not tonight. I stretched my legs. “Do you play favorites? Maybe with ones you made?”
“God, no.” He laughed. “I wish I had that talent. I have to order them. My grandpa–” His smile faltered. “Um, he made toys in the original workshop. Started in his garage, actually. He had great sewing technique. Carpentry. I’m more of a touch-up guy. I can fix holes and stuff ‘em, but I haven’t got that eye.”
“You stuff holes?” I chuckled.
“Sometimes.” He flushed, burrowing under the covers and crossing his arms.
Oh. Was I being insensitive? Or was he shy about sex now that we might have it?
I patted his leg. “Well, you may not have the eye, but you certainly have the heart, and that’s what counts with these sorts of things. ”
“Thanks.” One side of his mouth ticked up, and he nudged me with his elbow. “And besides, I couldn’t pick a favorite toy. It’d be like asking someone to pick a favorite child.”
“Everyone has their preferences. Or at least their phases.”
He furrowed his brow. “Love isn’t a phase.”
“It’s a feeling,” I mocked. And feelings could be fleeting, according to my parents’ ugly psychoanalysis. What I needed was stability. Camaraderie. This benefits thing. I sighed and slumped against my pillow. “Do you want to eat?”
He shot me a stern look and sarcastically said, “Oh, no. Not in here. Not after all the effort I went to keeping these sheets clean.”
“Shut up.” I lightheartedly smacked him with a pillow, then crawled over him. “I’ll be back with something not too messy.”
He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes bright. “Um, hey, Zero?”
“What?” I hesitated, my knee halfway raised. Was he upset I was blocking the TV?
“You know love is more than a feeling, right? It’s a choice. It’s a blessing, for however long you have it.” He swallowed hard and looked down.
Was he still thinking about Janice? Or was talking about his late grandfather making him sentimental? It probably didn’t help that this movie was about a kid freeing their stolen loved ones from a witch-like figure. But that was hardly the most interesting part. The kid found their own strength. Forged new friendships. Love was a bonus for their happily-ever-after.
I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my thigh against Sal’s side. “Love can be forever. But part of that is learning how to manage it.”
“What?” He wrinkled his forehead.
I sighed. “What’s that phrase? If you love something, let it go?”
He quirked his brow. Obviously, I wasn’t explaining this well .
I scanned my mind for any metaphors that didn’t involve software upgrades or gaming lingo. He’d be more connected to the human element. I scooted closer to him and said, “For example, I’ll always love my brother for protecting me from the creeps in my robotics department. But he doesn’t need to be that guy anymore, and I’m doing okay on my own.” In most regards, despite his opinions about my social life. “I can appreciate what we had without longing for it enough to drag me down about what I have now.” I clasped his hand, my heart whirring with unease. Even if this was too intimate, I looked him in the eyes and said, “The way you make people feel is a gift. Whatever they do with it, I hope you know it’s…priceless.”
He squeezed my hand and sniffled, his eyes glassy, and his mouth ticked up for a hint of dimpled adorableness.
The fine hairs on my arms tingled to attention. Something pricked behind my eyes. I reached to push up my glasses, but they were on the side table, not my face, so I brushed an invisible speck off my cheek instead. “You’ll always have love, Sal. I hope it serves you well as you figure out how to build a life you can be proud of.”
He grinned in radiant adoration. That smile made people fall in love with him. I wanted to hug him. Or kiss. But that’d ruin it. So, I patted his hand and launched off the bed. “Anyway, I’m off for a snack.”
“Aw, don’t go now,” he called.
“I’ll be right back.” I waved him off and dashed to the kitchen. Running was the only rational reason my heart was racing. One meaningful conversation shouldn’t send me into a fit. I pressed my palm over my sternum and willed myself to breathe. Everything was fine. He’d leave if I asked him to. Or drive me to the emergency room. I brewed some sleepy thyme tea and paced until it was ready. The tea and a plate of crackers, fruit, and cheese would help settle this strange surge of anxiety. By the time I got back upstairs with the tray, Sal was sleeping. Peaceful. Pretty .
I sighed. It’d be mean to wake him up to send him to the couch. But this was such a waste of tea. I set it by his bedside, then managed my own snack while playing Craft Cove and watching the movie. Eventually, the tea, the white noise of the TV, and the warm breeze of Sal’s breathing lulled me to sleep.
It was dark. Cozy. Heavy. Something tickled my nose. I rubbed it and rolled over with a huff.
“Grumpy," Sal teased.
Whatever. I was half-asleep. Hell, I was probably dreaming.
The rumble of the garage door jump-started my brain.
Victor was coming.
We had to get dressed ASAP. But when I bolted upright and reached over to rouse Sal, he was gone. The bathroom was open. And dark. No notes on the dresser, no texts, just a half-drunk mug of tea.
My insides knotted horribly, and the tang of metal sparked up my throat. Anything could’ve happened while I was sleeping. A friend wouldn't just leave me.